I love these Christian poems and musings by Micah Royal.
As we focus on the Spirit and Pride, I feel this poem I wrote last year is an appropriate picture of the Spirit’s worth to embrace our lives afresh.
Rising like all enveloping cloud,
morning mist which both conceals color, distance, and faces
while revealing shape and feeling,
even of tiny pebbles that are but pin pricks on the soles of my feet,
embraces me in cool dampness.
I cannot see the dimly lit dropoff but a few feet away
that mountainside beyond which lies unspeakable beauty
made visible by simple stroke of sun’s golden fingertips
yet now shrouded by silky threads of fog which
shelter us like those many pinioned swings the Psalm sang of falling over us.
And yet, though unseen,
such looming depth seems more visible
a pull like gravity
both promising and threatening like the hoot of the screech owl heard in…
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